Beginning Anew
by Serpens Caput
Summary: She was the new girl. They were best friends. A tale of what happens when the two mix.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first story so any feedback would be very much appreciated!And for those wondering, Baja does not and has never existed in this story. Events have and will be shifted a little from the original storyline.

Oh and disclaimer: all the characters - except for my original ones - do not belong to me (sadly...). I'm not trying to make money off of this, etc. etc. etc.

**MONDAY**

"Oh jeez," Dana staggered dazedly backwards. Two hands shot out and caught her around the shoulders, holding her steady. She glanced up sharply from the campus map that had held her so occupied she had run headfirst into a wall – a distinctly human-shaped wall. And as her gaze traveled upwards, she saw a handsome face staring amusedly down at her.

"Wow, you're tall," she blurted out, and then blushed. "Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

"No prob," he laughed. "Lost, little freshman?"

"Hey!' she exclaimed hotly, "I'm not little."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Or a freshman," she added.

"I've never seen you around," he remarked with a casual step forward.

"I just transferred," she explained, clutching her books closer to her chest as she felt her breathing quicken. He was intimidatingly attractive – and nice, too.

"Ah, I'm Eric," he held out a hand.

"Dana," she replied, shaking his hand firmly. Her hand tingled at the touch and she felt her hear beat just a hair faster.

"Nice to meet you Dana," he smiled. "So, where were you headed before you so rudely ran into me?" he winked to show he was just teasing.

_Sense of humor too_, she mentally remarked. _Sometimes god really does give with both hands…_

"Lunch…wherever that is," she said aloud, shooting a frustrated glare at the map she had clasped in her hand.

"Yeah, it's kind of a confusing school."

"And huge. It's gotta be four times bigger than my last school," she sighed.

"You know, I'm actually heading to lunch. You should come eat with us," he smiled widely, revealing two rows of toothpaste commercial worthy teeth.

"Sure," she grinned.

**

"Ugh," Dana groaned, swiftly ducking behind Eric. He peeked back at her, a quizzical expression on his face. "No, don't turn!" she pushed lightly on his shoulder.

"Why?" he laughed, fascinated by her antics.

"Because I'm hiding from that annoying blonde ass holding court over there," she hissed. He looked over to see who she was glaring at.

"Ryan?"

"You know him?"

"Everyone knows him," he gestured vaguely. "Why are you hiding from him?"

"He's in my English class, and let's just say we didn't hit it off well," she peered around him. In the back of her mind, she wondered that she felt so comfortable with him already. It was like she'd known him for years instead of minutes. Shaking off those overly clichéd thoughts, she focused on the situation at hand.

"He hit on you," he said dully.

"No, that'd be giving him too much credit," she shook her head. "More like he assumed that since I was girl, naturally we'd be going out whenever he wanted. Ass."

"That does sound like him," he grimaced. He shot a glance at the table and then down at her before reluctantly heading toward the table.

"Wait," she squealed and grabbed hold of his arm, "what are you doing? You're walking towards him!"

"Yes," he stopped and gave her a little push. "And so are you."

"Eric!"

They stopped in front of the group, Dana blushing furiously as they all looked up. Ryan smiled lasciviously, "I knew you'd come back to me. Friday still okay?"

"Shut up Ryan," Eric rolled his eyes. "Dana, these are my friends. When they're not acting like dicks at least."

"Ah," she winced in realization.

"Yeah," Eric nodded. "This is Ryan, whom you've met."

Ryan leapt off the table top and stalked over to her, standing too close for comfort. "So Friday?"

She took a step back, "Not a chance in hell."

"We'll see how long you say that," he proclaimed confidently. She gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to slap him across the face, and scowled.

"Lay off man," Eric said with a small push. "And that's Aaron," he continued, pointing the people out as he named them. "And over there's Tom and…"

**

"Hello?" Dana said, flipping open her phone as she struggled to open the front door.

"Hey, how was your first day? We all missed you over here," Emily's voice floated cheerily through the receiver.

"Em!" Dana chirped happily. She dropped her books and bag on the floor with a thud, and sprawled out on the sofa. "God, I missed you guys too."

"I can't believe we're not spending our senior year together," Emily mourned. "All that havoc we had planned…"

"Right, cuz we were actually going to do all those things," she said with a skeptical chuckle.

"Ya never know. Now spill. I wanna know everything that happened today," Emily demanded.

"The school here is insanely large, so I pretty much just spent the day glued to my map like some pathetic freshie," Dana groaned, "and I managed to run headfirst into this gorgeous guy."

"Oo, do tell." Dana swore she could see Emily's eyes brightening in interest.

"His name is Eric and he's incredibly tall-"

"How tall?" Emily interrupted.

"Six…five? Give or take two inches?" she estimated.

"He's too tall."

"For you maybe," Dana teased. "You and your short guys. I like my boys tall."

"Yeah, I know," there was pause, which Dana assumed was Emily rolling her eyes in exasperation. "But that makes him more than a foot taller than you. Too tall."

"Whatever," she dismissed, "and he's beyond beautiful."

"That part I approve of."

"Good to know," Dana laughed. "He's really nice, funny too-"

"I'm liking. White?"

"Have you ever seen a 6'5" Asian guy?" Dana countered. "I'm like the only Asian here. All the girls look like Malibu Barbies – plastic boobs and all."

"Does that mean all the guys look like Ken?" Emily joked.

"God, I wish."

"So, how hard are you fallin' for this guy?"

"Pretty hard," she confided. "He seems like a really nice guy."

"But?" Emily asked, hearing her slight reluctance.

"I dunno…"

"It's been four months," she said gently, "and this guy sounds perfect, and Dana you deserve a little perfect after last year. A lot of perfect, actually."

"I guess," she said unconvincingly.

"You do," Emily insisted. "Go after him. It's your senior year, have a little fun."

"Yeah, but…"

"Yeah?"

"He's got this friend, a really good friend by the looks of it…"

"Uh-oh. A girl friend?"

"No, it's this guy in my English class named Ryan. Arrogant, player, jerk, you know the type."

"What'd he do?"

"He walks into class, jumps on my desk, and goes "Baby, how does Friday work for you?"" she mimicked.

"You're kidding."

"No."

"That could be a problem," Emily mused.

"You're tellin' me."

"No, I mean, if this Ryan guy likes you then Eric…" she trailed off.

"Oh, but I don't think he _likes_ me," Dana clarified. "I'm just a novelty to him, a pale Asian amidst all those spray-tan blondes? It's a game to him."

"Maybe, but even so – guys are weird sometimes. If Eric's as nice as you say, he might not want to risk his friendship by competing for you."

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully. "Wait," she shook her head, "we're totally getting ahead of ourselves. I just met the guy. I doubt he likes me."

"_Yet_."

"Or ever," Dana objected.

"Psh, come on. One Asian girl in the whole school? Trust me, if not this Eric kid then someone – probably lots of someones – will come calling. Use the whole Asian fetish, yellow-fever thing to your advantage. Just make sure whoever you choose is hot, because I don't wanna have ugly pictures in my room."

"Lovely," Dana rolled her eyes, "we're not superficial at all."

"You're in Orlando, now's the time to be superficial. Besides, how else am I gonna live vicariously through you if you're all holed up in your house, dating ugly guys?"

"Thanks buddy," she said sarcastically. "And why do you need to live vicariously through me? You've got Joe."

"Yeah, but a girl needs a little drama in her life. A little boy drama, and since me and Joe are pretty much the most drama-less couple on the face of the earth, I need you to fill that hole."

"Aw shucks, you sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's me, a giver," Emily sighed dramatically. "Now go get that hot giant. And deck the little asshole friend if you have to. Go and conquer! I command you."

"I'm not just going to throw myself at him to amuse you."

"Who said throw? Just flirt with him, maybe flash a little cleavage?"

"Em, we're Asian. There's nothing to flash babe."

"Eh, true. Then just … I dunno… fall on him. Again. You fall all the time, just aim it at him. Guys love the whole damsel in distress thing."

"You need to stop reading Seventeen."

"And you need a boyfriend," Emily retorted.

"Touche."

"So how's your last week of summer goin?"

"Decidedly boring without you."

"Aw, thanks," she smiled. "Bet you and Joe are being all mushy and gross."

"Maybe. Now tell me what else happened today."

"Well…"

**

A/N: What'd ya think?? Should I continue? (And thanks for reading!!)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: YAY! reviews!! I felt oddly inspired this weekend (undoubtedly helped by all the reviews *nudge, nudge, hint hint*). Thanks so much everyone for your great reviews! So, here's the next chapter....

**TUESDAY**

"Hey," Ryan greeted, seating himself comfortably on the corner of Dana's desk.

"Get off," she said tiredly, not looking up from her math homework.

"Sure," he agreed.

She glanced up in surprise at his easy acceptance.

"If you go out with me tonight," he stipulated, not budging from his spot.

She sighed, "Really? Is this _really_ going to be an everyday thing?"

"Every day until you agree."

"You've got a hundred little groupies, why don't you bother one of them instead?" she snapped.

"But you're so much more fun," he said lightly.

"Lovely," she turned back to her math book, deciding if she ignored him long enough he'd probably go away.

He plucked the pencil from her hand.

"Seriously?" she asked as he held the pencil tauntingly in front of her, pulling it away when she reached for it.

He grinned playfully.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself. She stood up, hands on her hips. "Give me my pencil."

"Um," he tapped the pencil against his chin. "No."

"Give me my pencil."

"No."

"Ryan," she said warningly.

He grinned cheekily in response.

"You know what, fine," she threw her hands up.

"Fine, what?"

"Fine, I'll go out with you."

"Really?" he paused mid-tap.

"Nope," she yanked her pencil out of his grasp, and shoved him off her desk. She plopped back down in her seat, a self satisfied smile on her face.

"That was low," he shook his head, recovering quickly. "I like it," he leered, hopping back onto her desk.

"Get off my desk," she slapped his arm.

"Mr. McCarthy, go sit at your desk. Ms. Lee please restrain yourself from hitting Mr. McCarthy," Mr. Winterborne said dryly as he strode into class, "however much we may all wish you to."

The class laughed approvingly.

"Sorry Mr. Winterborne," Dana blushed.

"Hey!" Ryan protested. "What about me?"

"I'm _not_ sorry," she glared.

"All right, all right. Settle down class," Mr. Winterborne waved his hands and waited patiently for the room to quiet down. "So, are you all ready for your final project partners?"

There was a collective groan.

"Great, glad to see you're all so excited," he said cheerily, pulling out a list. "Okay, James and Evans; Adam and Mia. Steph and Nick. Joe and Emily. Jane and Stewart. Ryan and Dana. Mark and Alan. Jon and…"

"This cannot be happening," Dana groaned, letting her head fall to her desk with a loud thump.

"Hey," Ryan leaned into the aisle between them and tousled her hair. "Don't go killin' off all those brain cells before we even start on our project," he chided amusedly.

"Don't touch me," she said, muffled by the desk.

"What?" he leaned forward, hand still on her head.

"I said," she sat up. "Don't touch me."

"Sorry," he held up his hands in surrender. "Although, I bet you won't be saying that for long," he winked confidently.

"Oh god," she hit her head against the desk again, "someone kill me now."

***

"How's it goin freshie?" Eric asked when she came into sight. He was leaning comfortably against her locker, and she bit down the urge to giggle madly.

"Not bad," she smiled and gave him a good-natured push on the shoulder. He sidled down a locker, and she twirled the combination and flicked open her locker, "But I'm not a freshman. Not getting enough oxygen up there?"

"Must not be," he mused, "because I think I just hallucinated a diff eq book in your hands."

"Math hater?" she tsked as she shut her locker.

"I like math fine," he grinned, "but diff eq isn't math – it's Morris' own special brand of torture."

"You're taking it too?" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, I've got it first thing in the morning," he mimed hanging himself.

"Ugh, fun. I've got it third."

"Too bad you're not in my class," he remarked nonchalantly.

"Yeah?"

"It would've been funny to watch you try to reach the board," he jibbed.

Dana gaped and Eric laughed at her disgruntled expression. "You're eating with us, right?"

"Um, I dunno…"

"You have to," Eric contended.

"And why do I have to?" Dana raised an eyebrow.

"Or we'd all just be heartbroken and spend the whole period sobbing into our sandwiches."

She chuckled at the image, "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"

"Nope." He bowed grandiosely and offered her his elbow, "Ready ma'am?"

Grinning broadly, she slipped her arm into his, "Ready."

**

"Eric," Ryan slapped him in the back as he caught up with him after school.

"Ry."

They clasped hands and pounded fists.

"Thanks for bringing Dana over at lunch again. How'd you manage that anyway?"

"I saw her in the hall and I just invited her to hang with us again."

"Good man," Ryan thumped him on the shoulder. "She's fuckin' fantastic, right?"

"Yeah," he turned to face Ryan and his stomach dropped when he saw his own goofy smile mirrored across his best friend's face. "Do you like her then?" Eric asked more casually than he felt.

"Hell, yeah. She's different from the girls here, not to mention gorgeously exotic," he smirked.

"So, she's a fling."

"No, man," he shook his head emphatically. "Not this one."

"Oh."

"You're not into her, right?"

"What? No, of course not," Eric said quickly.

"Good. I'll catch up with you later then?"

"Yeah. Later," he echoed numbly.

**

A/N: Review? Please? :D


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to everyone who've been reading and thanks for all the wonderful reviews! So without further ado....

**THURSDAY**

Dana pulled apprehensively into the immense, sprawling wrap-around driveway of Ryan's house.

"Holy crap." She peered wonderingly through her windshield at the biggest house –mansion, she amended reluctantly – that she had ever seen. "Naturally he'd be richer than _god_," she muttered irritatedly to herself as she shut off the engine and climbed out of her Honda Pilot. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she stared up at the mansion.

"The sooner you go in, the sooner it'll all be over," she told herself bracingly. Even that thought did little to quell her growing desire to clamber back into her car and squeal out of here. Of course, the idea of failing English because of some little blonde moron didn't appeal to her either. _Damn Mr. Winterborne and his semester long final project._ With a groan, she started walking toward the front door.

"Hey," Ryan grinned, throwing open the door as she reached for the doorbell.

She jumped, and stared uncertainly at him. "Were you watching for me?"

"No, the guard at the gate told me when you drove in," he gestured for her to follow him, which she did – unenthusiastically.

"Oh," she realized, flushing hotly. It took all of her self-control to keep from gaping as she passed through impressive room after impressive room, each custom-designed and outfitted and probably worth more money than her entire house. He led her out into the pool, the warm Orlando air making her skin tingle, and she lifted an eyebrow at the sight that greeted her. A small crowd of kids from their school lounged about, chattering loudly as music pumped through the sound system that surrounded the pool.

"There are drinks and food and stuff over there," he nodded toward the bar, "just help yourself to anything. The cabana's over there and there are new swim suits and towels in there, if you want to change, and…"

"What?" she interrupted. _I should've known he wasn't going to take this seriously_, she thought viciously.

"What what?" he turned to look at her, sounding genuinely confused.

"What're you doing? We're supposed to be working on this project, not having a pool party," she snapped.

"I just thought you'd want to relax a little before we got to work," he shrugged.

"If I want to relax, I sure as hell am not going to be doing it here. With _you_."

"Geez, tell me what you really think," he muttered, sounding a little hurt.

She took a deep breath and sighed, "Sorry."

"No sweat," he said carelessly. He stepped up to an exercise machine, slipping off his shirt as he reached up and grabbed onto the bar. Slowly, he started lifting his legs up, holding them horizontal to the ground for a moment, before slowly lowering them back down.

She rolled her eyes as he showed off, doing rep after rep easily, resisting the urge to stare – and touch – his perfect, washboard abs. _God, did I really just think that? What's wrong with you? _She shook her head, and said jaggedly, "Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you, but are we going to get any work done today or what?"

"I'm ready when you are," he said, not pausing in his lifts.

"Fine," she said sharply, and pulled two notepads out of her backpack. She slapped one against his abs, right as his legs came up, leaving him in the awkward position of keeping his legs raised, or dropping the notepad to the ground. "Ready," she chirped, falsely brightly. "Are you?"

"Mmhmm," he said tightly.

She twisted her long black hair into a messy bun and stuck her pen through it to hold it in place as she waited patiently for his abs to give out. Feigning disinterest, she noted idly, "Your face is getting awfully red."

"I'm fine," he grunted.

"Whatever you say," she lifted her shoulders daintily. "So which books did you want to use?"

"Um," he exhaled heavily. "What," he paused, his body starting to shake a little under the strain, "were you thinking?"

Dana had to admit she was a little impressed. Just a little. It had been close to three minutes already and he didn't look ready to give in. Grinning wickedly to herself, she decided to hurry things along. "Well, funny you should ask that." She reached into her bookbag and pulled out several hefty tomes – glad she had forgotten to leave them in the car – and almost laughed aloud at the wary expression on his face. "I was thinking maybe Anna Karenina?" she dropped the hardcover book on his lap.

His hands tightened around the bar and he grimaced noticeably.

"Not a fan?" she smirked, "How about Crime and Punishment?" she suggested, dropping that too onto his lap.

"Or, War and Peace?" she lifted the immense book and made to place it onto the growing pile.

"Okay okay," he stood up, the books clattering to the ground. "I give."

"Give what?" she blinked innocently.

"Funny," he rolled his eyes as he bent down to retrieve the books.

"Yeah, I thought so," she grinned.

**

Ryan stared, wide-eyed, as he silently watched Dana fly fluidly through a series of complicated moves. She sliced through the air, moving seamlessly from one position to another. Shadows flickered across the hardwood floor as she flitted easily about, the sunlight streaming in from the large window behind her granting her a further ethereal glow.

It was tae-kwon-do, he quickly recognized. The characteristic kicks and sequences were vaguely familiar from the few months he had spent at a doujang. His father had insisted he know the basics of every major martial arts. From the looks of it, it was probably a black-belt pattern, but he had never seen anyone do it quite like that. It seemed more an elaborate dance than a series of bone-breaking moves, but he could see the carefully held power behind every movement.

She gave one final kick, before returning to ready stance and exhaling deeply.

Leaning forward, with her legs shoulder-length apart, she settled her palms against the ground and exhaled as she stretched. A few moments later, she stood back up and intertwined her fingers, extending them straight up, and then slowly leaned backwards until her palms were flat against the floor.

_She looks fantastic_, he thought to himself. She was wearing a pair of loose, white martial-arts pants low on her hips, and a skin-tight, black tank top that emphasized her flat stomach.

There was another slow exhale, and she stood up again, shaking out her shoulders.

Deciding it was time to make his presence known, Ryan slipped the book under arm and clapped loudly as he stepped out from behind the door.

She whirled around abruptly, shock marring her features for a moment before her eyes narrowed. "What're you doing here?" she demanded angrily. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of how underdressed she was, and she crossed her arms self-consciously over her chest.

Ryan pulled out Anna Karenina and waved it in the air, "You forgot one of your books at my house."

"Oh," she blushed, "Thanks." She walked towards him, and he handed it to her, his fingers lingering for a second against hers.

She stepped back, unsettled by how her heart had fluttered at the touch.

"I didn't know you fought," he said curiously.

"I don't fight," she laughed, as she put the book down by the wall. She shook her head at the thought, and turned back toward him.

"Could've fooled me," he raised an eyebrow.

"I do tae-kwon do," she insisted.

"Right, and that's a purely pacifistic sport," he said sarcastically.

"One doesn't necessitate the other," she scoffed.

"There's sparring, isn't there?"

"Yeah," she admitted reluctantly. "But that's the part I hate."

"Why? You look like you'd be amazing at it," he said sincerely.

"Thanks, I think," she returned hesitantly. "I'm not a big fan of the whole getting hit thing," she explained, not really sure why she was.

"I don't think anyone is," he whispered, mock-conspiratorially.

She grinned at that. "True."

"Well, I'll let you get back to your work out," he said as he headed back toward the door.

"Wait," she called out, biting her lip.

"Yeah?" he turned around to face her, still walking.

"Um," she chickened out. Her mind raced to come up with something to fill the heavy silence she had unwittingly created. "U-um," she stuttered as she blanked out. _Come on brain, don't fail me now_.

"How'd you know I was here?" she finally thought up, her eyebrows furrowing as she realized almost nobody knew she came to this little, out-of-the-way gym.

"I stopped by your house first and your little brother told me you were probably here," he explained as he strolled back toward her, stopping a few feet away.

"Oh," she nodded, a little surprised by the effort he had put into returning her book.

"How'd you find this place anyway?" he asked curiously.

"I got lost a couple of days after we moved here," she admitted embarrassedly, "so I came in here to ask for directions and I just fell in love with the place." She smiled happily as she reveled in the surroundings. "Plus, the owner's really nice. Gave me my own key and everything, so I just stop by whenever I'm stressed or bored or whatever."

"Wow," he grinned. "This is a fantastic place. I'm a little jealous, I've got to admit."

"What?" she laughed incredulously. "What about this incredible, state-of-the-art, gym I've heard you've got secreted away somewhere?"

"It's not the same." He met her eyes steadily, and she blinked at the misery and bitterness she found there. "This place is yours – kind of – and it's peaceful and serene. You can do what you want here and be whoever you want," he trailed off. "But, then again, my gym is pretty hot. Not as hot as me, of course."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, glad for the easy subject change. "Could you be anymore arrogant?"

"Well," he said slyly.

"Don't," she interrupted, holding up hand, "finish that sentence."

"Fine," he pouted, sticking his hands in his jean pockets. "So…"

"So." She chewed her bottom lip and considered….

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" his voice broke through her thoughts.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Thanks again for returning the book."

"No problem," he winked. "I never would've seen your mad skills otherwise."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Glad you got something out of it."

"You're telling me," he smirked, shutting the door gently behind him.

She shook her head, bothered by the fact that she had considered asking him to stay – had wanted him to stay – for a fleeting moment and returned more vehemently to her practice.

_One good day doesn't make him a good guy_, she growled to herself as she pummeled her weight bag.

_Come on,_ a part of her protested. _What has he ever done to you?_

_Been an arrogant ass._

_He's not such a bad guy_, she argued against herself.

_I'm not going to be one of his little sycophants. He's a conquest kind of guy. Once he gets you, he's done. _

_Maybe. But would it be so bad?_

_What about Eric?_

_Eric who's _not_ your boyfriend?_

"Arghh," she growled, kicking the bag hard. "Stupid boy. Stupid. Stupid," she muttered, punctuating each word with a roundhouse.

**

Ryan whistled brightly to himself as he strolled toward his Ford Escalade. This English project was turning out to be a very good thing indeed.

**

Read and review please? :D


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So so so sorry about the wait everyone! (And for how short it is *winces*). But this chapter really didn't want to be written and life's been a little hectic....Thank you all for all of your reviews and for continuing to follow this story! It's definitely what keeps me writing (or...trying to write :D). Anyway, enjoy!

**FRIDAY**

"Hey," Ryan welcomed from his customary seat on her desk as she ambled into class.

"Hi," she returned uneasily, her hands tightening unconsciously around her books. She wasn't sure how to act around him anymore. He was a cocky son-of-a-bitch, to be sure, but for a moment yesterday – however brief and short-lived it had been –he had seemed almost…_real_. There had been a fleeting instant when the bravado and conceited act had faltered and she could almost see someone she wanted to know better.

She realized, abruptly, that a still silence had fallen between them as she mulled and that he was staring expectantly at her. _I should give him a chance_, she decided and opened her mouth –

- and shut it quickly as his voice washed over her.

"I know, I know. I'm gorgeous," he shrugged superciliously, "so gorgeous that you don't know what to do with yourself. So, why don't you come over here and we'll find something for you to do." He winked and licked his lips slowly.

There was a flash of stunned surprise before seething fury overtook her. _That little.._. Her jaw clenched and she narrowed her eyes as she spat, "Excuse me?"

He burst into laughter and she eyed him warily as he doubled over. "Sorry," he choked out between guffaws, "but the look on your face." He snickered again. "Priceless. Absolutely priceless."

"That was a joke," she said slowly.

"Yes," he grinned. "I have a little more class than that."

"Sure you do," she muttered, without any real ire. She was more relieved than she'd care to admit. "You're a prick," she said conversationally.

"I know," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes, "I suppose it'd be too much to ask you to sit on a chair like a normal person?"

"I can do that," he said as he slid into her seat.

"I meant your own."

"Ah, but where would the fun be in that?" he grinned.

"Yeah, god forbid you don't have fun," she said sarcastically. "And where am I going to sit?"

He patted his lap, "Right here."

_Should've seen that one coming, _she thought wryly. "I dunno," she said slowly, "you couldn't even carry a few books on your lap yesterday…"

His eyes narrowed, "I still owe you for that."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Great, now can you get out of my seat?"

"Ah, Mr. McCarthy, I see you're making progress," Mr. Winterborne remarked as he passed by them. They both swiveled to look at him. "You've finally mastered the art of sitting in a chair. Now let's see if you can find yours?"

Ryan stood up with a flourish, pulling out Dana's chair suavely. She looked suspiciously at him, but seeing that they had the entire class's attention, she quickly sat down - not before whispering threateningly, "If you pull my chair out from under me, so help me God…"

"You're welcome," he said in a low voice, bringing his mouth to her ear. She shivered involuntarily as his warm breath ran over her and he smirked triumphantly as he sat down in his seat.

"Ass," she mouthed. Mr. Winterborne glanced disapprovingly over their way. She smiled weakly at him, unable to shake the feeling that he had somehow heard her wordless statement, before slouching further into her chair.

"Remember class," Mr. Winterborne resumed, "your proposal for your final project is due in exactly a week. Do not, and I stress this, do _not_ wait until the night before because I _will_ be able to tell. Now, let's resume our discussion on Crime and Punishment. Thoughts? Comments?"

A small wad of paper floated gracefully onto the center of her desk. She peeked at Ryan who blinked angelically back and she scowled. But, unable to staunch her curiosity, she stealthily unfurled the scrap of paper.

_Yes. I know I have a nice ass. Feel free to look anytime._

Frowning, she shot a look at Ryan who beamed widely and winked. She flipped the paper over and thought for a moment before scrawling a quick response. Satisfied, she balled up the paper and carelessly pushed it off the edge of her desk.

Ryan raised an eyebrow which she returned apathetically, silently challenging him to retrieve the note. His eyes brightened at this test and there was an instant of thought before he grinned. Negligently, he slumped to his desk, feigning sleep. Mr. Winterborne noticed a few moments later and opted to none-too-gently drop his hardcover copy of the book onto Ryan's desk.

He shot up, startled, and toppled off of his chair – falling conveniently beside the note which he surreptitiously slipped into his pocket. Dana had to hand it to him, he was quite the actor. If she hadn't instigated his little performance, she definitely would have bought it. There was a titter of laughter, and a few scattered chortles, in the classroom as Ryan scrambled to his feet and back to his desk.

"Sorry 'bout that teach," he said breezily.

"I'm sure, Mr. McCarthy," Mr. Winterborne said sardonically. "Do restrain yourself in the future."

"Aye aye, sir," he saluted, to the pleasure of the class. Mr. Winterborne rolled his eyes before plucking his book off Ryan's desk.

"Now, as I was saying, Dostoyevsky –"

Ryan easily tuned him out, eager to read the note he had gone to such lengths to obtain. He casually slipped it out of his pocket and spread it flat on his desk.

_I have. It's quite impressive. Precisely the kind of ass that every girl dreams - _

He hastily flipped over the paper, and squinted at the words penned beneath his own.

_Theirs looked like. _

Dana smirked victoriously as he gawped soundlessly.

A/N: Review? Please? :D


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: *squeals* YAY! Thanks everyone for all the beyond wonderful reviews! :D :D

**FRIDAY AFTERNOON**

The final warning bell rang (why on earth this school insisted on so many damn bells, she would never understand. Wasn't one for the start and one for the end of class enough?) signaling the start of class, and Dana trudged unenthusiastically out of the girl's locker room. A gaggle of chattering, giggling blondes tossed their hair simultaneously in front of her and she glowered in distaste. They were far happier than anybody heading to gym had the right to be.

Samantha bounced up to her, her vibrant red hair swinging in a neat ponytail behind her. "Cheer up, it's volleyball, not a firing squad."

"Says the one who can reach the net," Dana sulked.

"You can reach the net," Sam laughed.

"Maybe on a footstool."

"You can reach the bottom of the net," she offered as she sat down on the bleachers.

Dana plopped down beside her and pouted, "Sure, kick me when I'm down."

"Aw, well think of it this way. It's the last period of the week. No gym for another 72 hours."

"Ah, but that assumes I'll survive the next fifty minutes."

"Why wouldn't you?" Sam raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow.

"Did you see the death glares my team was shooting me yesterday? They're probably going to 'accidentally' brain me with a ball today."

Sam snorted, "Well, I'll be sure to out them at the funeral."

"Lovely," Dana drawled. "Wait, why aren't you dressed for gym?" she realized suddenly as she took in Sam's cute plaid miniskirt and matching ensemble.

"Doctor's note," Sam sang out smugly.

"For what?" she exclaimed.

"Good ole Aunt Flo."

"First, you are officially the first person – outside of television and books – to ever call it that. And second, what? How the hell'd you convince a doctor to write you a note for that?" Dana laughed incredulously.

"What can I say? Some of us are gifted," she grinned.

"So you're leaving me to fend the killer blondes off by myself?" she wailed.

"Yup."

"Mean."

"Jealous."

"True." Dana sighed.

"Dana Lee?" Mr. O – he had a name (one with more letters than the alphabet, Dana swore), but she couldn't for the life of her remember it – called out.

"Here," she gave an unwilling wave of her hand.

"Samantha Lena?" Mr. O read next.

"Here, but I have a doctor's note," she chirped as she handed it to him.

He opened the folded note and flushed. Hastily, he refolded the note and handed it back to her. "Okay. Give that to the nurse and then sign in at the library after I'm done with announcements."

"Okay," she nodded placidly.

The gym doors swung open, drawing their attention, and Dana's eyes widened when Eric stalked in.

"And gym isn't looking so bad anymore," Sam whispered, her eyes roaming over Eric. He was dressed in a black, Deville muscle shirt that left nothing to the imagination with a complimenting pair of gray shorts. "Not bad at all."

Suddenly, Dana wasn't quite as upset that her friend was leaving.

Mr. O's brows furrowed and he strode to meet Eric. The two started conversing in low tones, too far away to be heard.

"I wonder what he's doing here," Dana mused.

"You know that spectacular specimen of a man?" Sam demanded, not taking her eyes off of him. "How and why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"He's a friend," Dana shrugged, blushing lightly.

"Ooh," Sam grinned wickedly. "A friend you'd like to-"

"Sam!"

"Get friendly with?" she finished lamely.

"We're just friends."

"Then you won't mind if I-"

"Shh, he's coming over," she murmured.

"Hey Dana," Eric grinned.

"Hey Eric. What're you doing here?" Dana asked curiously as he sat down beside them. "Ow," she muttered as Sam nudged her none to gently in the ribs. "Sorry, this is my friend Sam. Sam, this is Eric," she gestured.

"Nice to meet you," Sam all but purred, extending a hand.

"You too," Eric grinned.

Dana held back a frown, ignoring the resentful feeling she felt bubbling up at the sight of his warm smile directed at someone else. Someone who looked fantastic and who wasn't wearing the ugly, mandated athletic uniform, she thought bitterly as she plucked at the bottom of her gym shirt.

"And, this is my gym class," Eric said, turning toward her.

"Ditched the last first week of class?" she mock-tsked.

"I'm on the football team," Eric explained, "so I had to meet up with the coach and work out some things."

"You're on the football team? No way, what position?" Sam exclaimed.

"Quarterback."

"Wait," Sam snapped her fingers as she tried to recall something, "weren't you the varsity captain last year? The youngest one in a bunch of years?"

"Yeah," Eric admitted, reddening.

"Wow," Sam ogled.

"So, what're we doing?" Eric asked, changing the topic.

"Vol-"Dana started.

"Wait, why are you here? Not that I mind of course," Sam giggled coquettishly, "but don't varsity players get athletic waivers for gym?"

"Yeah, but I don't mind gym," he shrugged.

"That's blasphemy," Dana gasped.

"Not a big fan?" Eric laughed.

"There's the understatement of the year," Sam chimed in.

Dana shot a disgruntled look at her, but blushed when Eric stared curiously at her. She lifted her shoulders helplessly, "I'm just not athletically inclined."

"Really?" Eric said disbelievingly. "Ryan mentioned you were a fighter like us."

"What?" Sam whirled toward Dana, who reflexively scooted back from the expression on her face.

"Ryan would," she rolled her eyes.

"So you don't fight?" Eric looked confused.

"I don't fight. I do tae-kwon-do," she refined. "And I'm a pretty sucky at most sports, trust me."

"I'm sure you're just being modest," Eric grinned.

"I'm not," she insisted.

"Samantha," Mr. O interrupted. "You may leave now."

"Oh," Sam looked up, startled. "You know what, actually, I think I'm okay to participate."

"You're not dressed to play," he noted her outfit disapprovingly.

"Oh," she frowned. "I-"

"It's fine. You can play on Monday when you have your uniform. Until then, please head to the library," Mr. O directed gently.

"Okay," she said grudgingly. "It was nice to meet you Eric," she grinned brightly. "I'll see you around?"

"Sure."

"Great! I'll see you guys later!" she waved.

"Bye," they said together.

"Jinx, you owe me a soda," Dana beamed.

"What? But –"

"No buts," Dana stuck her tongue out playfully. "You can't counter jinx."

"Eric, you can play on Samantha's team for today," Mr. O directed. Dana blinked. She could have sworn he had left…

"Oh, that's my team," Dana grinned and then faltered. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"Why?" he laughed.

"You'll see," she said ominously.

**

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Eric said soothingly as they strode out of the gym.

"Were we playing the same game?" Dana said dubiously. "I somehow managed to whap all but one of my teammates in the head with the ball. I even hit you! I'm really really sorry about that, by the way."

"Yeah," Eric winced, rubbing the back of his head in remembrance. "Don't worry about it, it didn't really hurt."

"You're a very bad liar," she cringed, "and I'm really really really sorry."

"I'm fine," he laughed. "Really. And it really wasn't that bad. At least you got it over the net once!"

"Only because I tripped and the ball bounced off my falling body."

"Don't worry, you'll get better," he said confidently.

"Uh huh."

"You will."

"How about you just play _for_ me. Probably better for everyone's health," she solicited hopefully as she spun the combination lock on her locker.

"Nope. No can do. But I can teach you some tricks on Monday."

"Yay," she said flatly. "More volleyball. Just what I always wanted." She growled in frustration as her locker refused to budge.

"Here, let me," he grinned.

"Okay, but I'm telling you, it's cursed. It's a cursed, evil locker that refuses to open unless you sacrifice at the altar of demon lockers."

"Okay," he laughed. "Now what's the combo?"

"9-5-17."

Seconds later the door swung open and Dana glared. "I can't believe my locker likes you more than me."

"I'm a very lovable person."

"Yeah, I know," she mumbled.

"What? What do you mean 'you know'?"

"Um," she blanched. "You know, just that our whole volleyball team now adores you," she offered feebly.

"What?"

"Oh come on, didn't you notice all the girls fluttering their eyelashes at you and all the guys bowing down at your feet for winning us every game?"

"Nope."

"Oblivious," she sighed as she zipped up her backpack and swung her locker shut. _Oblivious in oh so many ways,_ she mentally added. "Lead on, oblivious one."

"Oblivious, but lovable," he corrected as they walked down the hallway toward his locker.

"Fine. Oblivious, lovable one." _If you only knew just how true that statement is_, she sighed to herself, and pasted on a bright smile as she trotted after him.

A/N: Reviews? Please? :D :D


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: oh..my..god...SO MANY REVIEWS FOR ONE CHAPTER!! YAY ALL!! *hugs* sorry about the wait :( but wisdom teeth removal=not fun. I'll try and get out another chapter (or two, fingers crossed!) in the next week! :D :D

[Oh and to answer a few questions: Yes, a fight scene is imminent (but between who? :D :D ) and Jake will show up at least once but he's not going to be a huge character in this fic.]

**One week later…**

**FRIDAY**

The bell rang, and Dana quickly swept up her English stuff. Ryan hurried to catch up, his large strides easily overcoming hers. He stepped in front of her, walking backwards, seemingly unconcerned by the people around him who – she was displeased to see – parted before him.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?'

"I'm having a party tonight. You should come by, it'll be fun. I swear," he promised. He smiled endearingly, "Scouts honor."

"Were you even a Boy Scout?" she laughed.

"No, but I bet I would've been a good one," he smirked.

"Sure," she rolled her eyes.

"I would! I'm always prepared," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Dana snorted, "Lovely."

"It is. So? Please come?"

"I'll think about it," she promised.

"Great!" he beamed. "Now, about our project…"

**

"Eric!" she called out, speeding up a bit to catch up with him. He stopped and turned, a small smile playing around his lips.

"What's up?" he asked. She slanted her head inquiringly at his slightly cool tone.

"Just heading to class. Physics," she screwed her face in distaste. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been around," he shrugged. "Coach has had me in the weight room. Haven't seen you at lunch though."

"I went out with some friends from my psych class," she explained. _Since I wasn't sure you wanted me there,_ she silently added to herself, _when you stopped showing up by my locker, when every conversation got more and more stilted after that _thing_ last weekend_…

"Make sure you eat with us, whenever you're free," he said, breaking through her thoughts.

"Okay," she smiled up at him. "I will. I hear there's a big party tonight. Are you going?"

"Mmhmm," he nodded, lips tightening slightly around the corners. "You?"

"I haven't decided yet," she said indefinitely. _I will if you want me to._

"It'll be a lot of fun," he remarked.

"I bet," she agreed. There was a beat of silence, and people bustled and jostled by them.

"It'd be good if you went," he said finally.

"Maybe I will then," she smiled shyly.

He opened his mouth to say something else when the bell rang overhead. Staring inquisitively up at him, she waited for a few seconds but it appeared that the moment had passed.

"I have to head to class," she said regretfully.

"Me too," he nodded, "maybe I'll see you tonight?"

"Maybe," she acceded, giving an awkward half-wave as the throng of students bore her along the hallway.

_Maybe_.

The word echoed in his head as he watched her drift away from him and swallowed hard.

_Maybe they could just be friends._

_Maybe he could be around her._

_Maybe he'd stop wanting her._

_Maybe friends would finally be enough. _

Every second around her was agony. Pure, unending, sublime agony. Glimpsing the hurt and bewilderment flash across her delicate, not-quite-perfect, but oh-so-beautiful-to-him features. Watching her uncertain attempts to recapture and cling to the easy friendship he was systematically obliterating.

Every word she spoke – the way her lips moved sensually innocent with each syllable; how she absently pushed back the same, persistent lock of silky hair the color of descending night and flickering twilight, as she talked; and that soft, breathless quality to her voice – all of it slammed into him harder than any hit he had ever taken.

It hurt, physically hurt, him to be around her. Now more than ever, when he had been a hair's length away from her, when he had felt her sweet breath against his face.

He knew it had been a bad idea to spend Friday afternoon alone with her. But she had pled so adorably and insistently, after gym by his locker, that she craving chocolate and ice cream and did he know of anywhere? And of course, like the idiot masochist that he was, he had taken her to his favorite gelato shop down on sixth street. How could he not?

_Stupid_.

One thing had turned into another, and suddenly they were in steadily darkening theatre (he simply couldn't let her go through life without seeing the newest Transformer). And then her bag been knocked to the floor, and they both bent down to retrieve its contents, and like a bad rom-com, they had looked up and her glittering, almost onyx eyes had met his, her face and his slowly inching toward each other, until their lips were so close he was surprised he couldn't feel them beneath his.

Loud gunfire burst across the IMAX screen, and he had forced himself to look away, and uncomfortably pass her rescued cell phone back. She had looked flustered then, and disappointed?

Maybe.

_He_ had been disappointed. Angry at himself for succumbing to her (almost), furious at Ryan for choosing her, and then livid with himself for not telling him – for not being able to tell him – then and there that he was in love with this klutzy, dizzyingly alluring woman whose face he couldn't seem to drive out of his mind no matter how he tried.

Love.

Maybe it was love.

No. That one he knew, somewhere in the depths of his marrow, he _knew_ that he was in love with her. And he knew that for as much as stayed away, as hard as he tried, he knew that this love wasn't going away.

He didn't want it to.

A/N: Read and review! Please? :D :D


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'm trying really hard to get the rest of this night written out! :D :D Hopefully it'll be up soon!...hehe...this was a fun night to write...Thanks again for the reviews all! :D

**FRIDAY NIGHT**

Dana pushed at the crowd, attempting – and failing – to weave her way through.

"Hey," Eric tapped her shoulder.

"Hey," she smiled, and tripped as she turned to face him. His strong hands gripped her shoulders and caught her. "Thanks," she said gratefully.

"No problem," he replied easily. "Ryan'll be glad you came."

She shrugged noncommittally. _Ryan? Are _you_ glad?_ she wondered to herself.

"Come on, I'll help you find him," he offered.

"I'm actually looking for my friends. They disappeared somewhere between the door and here," she countered weakly, not entirely really sure she wanted to go see Ryan.

"I'm sure they'll find you," he smiled widely, "Now, come on. Ryan's been waitin' for you all night." He grabbed her hand, successfully cutting off any further protests, and effortlessly moved through the crowd.

"Damn, how'd you do that?" she marveled as she glanced back at the throng of people.

"Just gain about 150 lbs and 2 feet and you'll be able to do it too," he chuckled.

"I am not 2 feet shorter than you," she objected with a pout. He let go of her hand, surprising her – she hadn't even noticed she had still been holding his hand – and pretended to measure the distance between then.

"I dunno," he said looking at the exaggerated distance between his hands. "Looks like two feet to me."

"That's because you measured wrong," she reached up and pushed his hands closer together until they were about six inches apart. "That looks about right."

"Maybe to your midget eyes," he teased and moved his hands back apart.

"Hey! They're even further apart than before!" she complained.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged. "Then you measure."

"Fine," she sniffed. "I will." She looked up at him, "Um…actually, I think I'm good."

"Can't even reach me, can you?" he taunted good-naturedly.

"It's not my fault you're a freak of nature," she pouted.

"Says the midget."

"I am not a midget!" she protested. "I'm 5'4", for your information. That's a perfectly _normal_ height, unlike some people," she looked meaningfully at him. "How tall are you, anyway?"

"6'4"."

"Jesus Christ, what'd your parents feed you when you were little?"

"Midgets," he waggled his eyebrows.

Dana giggled at that, "Well that explains it then."

**

Ryan looked away from the fights below him. Watching inexperienced fighters never kept his interest for very long, it was all fumbled punches and stumbling footwork. He turned and leaned against the balcony railing, his eyes traveling over the people inside. His blues eyes caught sight of Eric, who was flirting with some girl, and Aaron was...

_Wait._

He doubled back. _Dana?_

Jealously, he watched the interaction for a few moments, noting how openly she laughed with Eric, how she nudged him playfully, and how at ease she seemed to be with him.

_Why isn't she that way with me? And what the hell does Eric think he's doing?_

He stalked quickly over to them. "Hey, what's up?"

**

"Hey, what's up?"

Eric looked up, surprised by Ryan's sudden appearance. "Hey man," he nodded. "I was just taking Dana to find you."

"Really," Ryan said disbelievingly.

"Yeah."

"If you say so," Ryan agreed, his voice low and dangerous.

"I do."

Something unspoken seemed to pass in the flash of silence that followed. Dana looked between them, an eyebrow raised, wondering what exactly was going on.

"Hey, you came," he said, turning toward her and pulling her into an unexpected hug. He smiled broadly. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show."

"No, I'm here," she said slowly, stepping out from under the arm he had left wrapped around her shoulders. A step which took her closer to Eric, Ryan noticed resentfully.

"I'm glad you came," he grinned. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"Okay," she shrugged. She had taken a few steps when she noticed Eric wasn't with them. Puzzled, she glanced back, "You comin' midget-eater?"

Eric laughed, but catching sight of Ryan's tense face behind her, he quickly sobered and shook his head. "Nah, you two go on. I've gonna go see if I can't find Aaron."

"Okay, come find us later?" she said with a small, hopeful smile.

"Sure," he nodded.

A/N: Read and review! Please? :D :D


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: ohmygod ohmygod! yayayayay! REVIEWS! you guys are all amazing *hug* ...now without further ado...a ...NEW chapter! :D :D in just a few short days! :D

**FRIDAY NIGHT (PART 2)**

"No way," she gasped, laughing hard as Ryan animatedly described a prank he had pulled. Dana was pleasantly surprised by how much fun she had been having with Ryan, how funny and unnervingly charming he could be, and how fantastic he looked when he smiled – really smiled, so his dimples showed, and his vivid eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Yeah, trust me when I say that wasn't exactly my finest moment," he said with a deep chuckle.

"Hey," Aaron appeared suddenly.

"Hey," Dana smiled, as Ryan nodded.

"Tyler's here," he said in a low voice, too low for Dana to hear.

"Really?" Ryan straightened abruptly. He turned toward her, eyes sparkling and expectant, "Wanna see something exciting?"

"Sure," she grinned.

"Great," he rubbed his hands excitedly. "Come on," he offered her his hand, and the two of them followed Aaron down the stairs, and out onto the back lawn. A crowd of people had already gathered, encircling a large open area of grass, and Dana's good mood dropped significantly.

"What's going on?" she asked, tugging on Ryan's hand.

"It'll be good, I promise." The circle opened, letting the two of them in, and Ryan let go of her hand. "Hey, Tyler."

"Hey."

"You ready for the main event?" Ryan grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

The crowd roared its approval. Dana exhaled loudly and turned to leave when she spotted Eric a few feet away. She wandered over to him, "Hey."

"Hey, you having fun?" he smiled warmly.

"I was. They're fighting then?" she said resignedly.

"Yeah."

"Great. I'm gonna head out then," she shot one more glance at Ryan, who – bolstered by the ring of people – seemed eager to commence. Although, she noticed vaguely, that Tyler seemed less than interested.

"You're leaving already?" Eric asked, surprised. He shifted his attention from the center of the circle.

"Yeah, I don't need to see _this_," she said, disgusted.

"Wait," he caught hold of her hand. "Just stay a little longer?" he said pleadingly.

She bit her lip, torn. She definitely want to watch this, but, she didn't want to let go Eric's hand either. His eyes stared hopefully down at her, and she sighed, "Fine. Just a little longer though."

"Okay," he agreed quickly.

**

"You know what they say about the internet," Tyler shook his head and turned to leave, only to find his path blocked by Aaron.

"So none of that stuff is true? Not even that part about your _dad_?" Ryan goaded.

Tyler spun slowly around.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Dana hissed, appalled.

"I'm not sure," Eric lied.

"Wrapping his drunk ass around that tree? You know what I can't figure out though? What- What you were doing in the passenger seat? Why didn't you just drive?" Ryan scratched his head. "Wow, talk about dropping the ball." He strode away.

Tyler's face contorted in anger, and he lunged suddenly for Ryan, fists raised. A couple of people seized him, stopping him from jumping Ryan.

Ryan turned back to Tyler, jumping up and down animatedly. "You want some gloves, huh?"

"Yeah. Get the gloves," Tyler bit out.

A cheer went up, and Ryan's grin widened.

**

"And now for the bad news," he shook his head mock-mournfully, "It's got to end with you looking like a bitch. In front of everyone." Ryan looked up at that pronouncement, his gaze landing firmly on Dana.

She met his glance, and shot him a revolted look, before turning away and slipping out of the circle. His eyes widened, and for a moment he forgot about Tyler, who he was holding on the ground. Eric caught his eye, having moved into Dana's vacated position, and shrugged helplessly before shoving through the crowd to follow her.

Ryan's fist tightened, and when Tyler surged upward, he stopped holding back. He was done playing and catering to the pack of expectant watchers. A sharp right hook knocked Tyler backward to the ground, and when he lifted his head weakly, Ryan drew back and threw a roundhouse, landing it straight across his face. Tyler slumped back, knocked out cold, and for the first time Ryan didn't stop to listen to the applause and adoration.

He rammed through the crowd, breathing heavily, in search of Dana and Eric.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, catching up to the two of them. He lightly put a gloved hand on her shoulder and she turned to face him.

"Leaving," she said shortly, knocking off his hand.

"Why?!"

"Why?" she echoed incredulously. "Why the hell would I want to stay?"

"The fight was amazing," he persisted.

"That wasn't a fight," she spat, "That kid had no martial arts training and no desire to fight you. All you did was throw his dad's _death_ in his face and thenpummel him into the ground."

"He gave as good as he got," he defended, pointing to rapidly purpling eye.

She scoffed, "So he landed what, two punches? You pounded him into a bloody pulp."

"I did, didn't I?" he smirked.

"Oh my god," she said disbelievingly, "You're actually proud of yourself. I can't believe I thought you were an okay guy."

"It's not like he was some little kid I bullied," he objected stormily. "Did you not see the guy? He's got like fifty pounds on me and he _knows_ how to fight. Old-school."

"You're," she exhaled, "Whatever. Eric can you drive me home? My friends seem a little occupied," she motioned toward two couples on the couch behind him.

"I can drive you home," Ryan interjected.

"No," she said shortly. "Eric? If you don't mind?"

"Yeah, of course," he agreed, deliberately not looking at Ryan.

A/N: Read and review? Please? :D :D


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry about the wait all! :( I'm sad to say school has resumed so updates will be less frequent. But I'll try my best to get them up as soon as I get them written. Thanks all for your continued support and encouragement! :D

**FRIDAY NIGHT (PART 3)**

"He's not a bad guy," Eric spoke up, breaking the heavy silence.

"_Right_," she looked out the tinted windows.

"You just don't know him well enough."

"Maybe," she said dully. "But I'm pretty sure I don't want to."

"Oh come on, that's not fair."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you life's not fair?"

"Once or twice, never stuck."

"Maybe you should go have him beat it into you," she suggested snidely.

"Nice."

"He thrives on pounding the crap out of people!" she exploded. "He literally _feeds_ off of it."

"He does not."

"Were you there tonight? He taunted that kid with his father, for Christ's sake."

"He was a little more intense than usual," Eric acknowledged, "but it's just because he was trying to impress you, show off a little for you."

"That doesn't excuse him acting like a complete ass."

"He's not," he continued, refusing to relent. "He's just…he's always been a fighter. Ever since we were little he's been in karate and krav maga and everything – his dad made him. And, I don't think he knows any other way."

"That's what scares me," she said softly. "I don't date fighters anymore anyway."

"Anymore?" he asked, catching onto the unsaid. _Any fighters? Or just Ryan? _he wondered to himself.

"You know, I don't really feel like going home just yet," she changed the subject edgily. "Wanna go do something?"

"Um, there's a pool place up ahead. Know how to play pool?"

"Not well," she confessed.

"No time like the present to learn," he looked over at her and smiled.

"Okay. Let's do it," she grinned

**

"Not bad," Eric complimented as the four ball rolled into the corner pocket. Dana circled the table, looking for her next ball, and winked.

"Good teacher," she said conspiratorially.

"Damn straight," he agreed. "So, you gonna tell me what you got against fighters? Or am I gonna have to get a pitcher of something stronger than coke?" he asked lightly.

She paused, bent over the table, and stared up at him.

"Come on, I'm a good listener. And I did save you from a ride with Ryan," he decided to try the guilt road, "or an awkward moment disturbing couples."

Puffing her cheeks, she scrunched her nose thoughtfully. "Fine," she set her pool stick down on the table and ambled over to him, taking a seat on the bar stool beside him.

"You know I used to live in Chicago, right?" she started tremulously.

"Yeah," he cocked his head, uncertain if he had been right to push her to tell him.

Dana cleared her throat, "Well, the reason we moved was because it got too hard to stay there."

"I don't follow…"

"Yeah, I'm not explaining this really well," she bit her lip. _Just tell him._

"Okay. When I was fifteen, there was this new instructor at my tae-kwon-do academy. He was _beyond_ gorgeous and kind and … I just fell head-over-heels for him. Of course, I never thought I'd have a shot with him," she laughed self-deprecatingly.

"Maybe if he was blind, deaf and dumb," Eric interrupted.

"Thanks," she laughed, "Anyway, after a while…" she shrugged. "I dunno, somehow we ended up together and everything just fell into place. And he was fighter – like you guys, but he was even more intense about it."

"Is that even possible?"

"Yeah, it is. It didn't start out that way. When we first started going out, he just fought a little for fun. You know, more to show off than anything. And, honestly, I thought it was kind of hot," she blushed.

"That's why we do it," Eric smirked.

"Right," she rolled her eyes. "But, pretty soon he was fighting more and more and – he just…," she took a breath and exhaled deeply. Her next words came out soft, confused, "He got so into it. He started lifting weights more and working out more and then he was using - using steroids…"

She paused, "And he was different. More aggressive and…it took me a while to notice, because it's not like all of sudden he was jumping people, it was more subtle than that. But," she took another deep breath, "after a while he was picking fights with anyone over everything and anything. If a guy said something the wrong way, suddenly they'd be out there fighting. If someone looked at me, he'd explode and punch the guy out. If…it was anything that could set him off. And then it was everything."

Her foot tapped nervously against her stool.

"Go on," he said gently.

"Even me," she said quietly.

"What?" he wasn't sure if he heard her right. She couldn't mean…

"At first, it just meant our arguments were louder and more heated," she licked her lips. "But, yelling I could match…" Rubbing her neck, she sighed, "Then it escalated."

"What?" Eric's voice was dangerously soft.

"He'd grab my arm and not let go when I tried to walk away, and then it was pushing and…he'd always apologize and I was so in love him," she said bitterly. "It took three broken ribs and a black eye for me to finally end it."

"I'm going to kill him," Eric swore.

"You don't even know who he is," she said, trying half-heartedly to lighten the mood.

"Doesn't matter, I'll find him and kill him," he ground out.

"As lovely as murder sounds," she said sarcastically, "it's in the past. And, I'm okay now. _Really_."

"I still think we should hunt him down and," he ground his fist threateningly into his hand.

"Relax a little," she patted him on the back. "Now, are we going to play pool or what?"

**

Ryan fumed angrily as he paced back and forth in front of the couch. _What the fuck is Eric doing? And what the hell is taking them so long? They should've been back by now_…

The house was eerily empty, several hours later. There were empty plastic cups and bottle scattered about the ground, and Ryan kicked irritatedly at them, satisfied when one flew up and crashed into the wall before clattering back to the ground.

_And what the hell did she mean, not an okay guy. I'm a great guy._

_I am_.

He growled and lashed out at another bottle.

"Shit, what're you doing?" Eric ducked as the bottle flew over his head.

"I think I should be asking that," Ryan snarled.

"What?"

Ryan flew at him, fists raised, and punched him hard across the face.

"What the fuck," Eric cursed, barely moving out of the way as Ryan lunged toward him again.

"What the fuck? What the fuck were you doing with Dana for four hours?" Ryan grabbed him by the collar, somehow managing to pin him against the wall despite his smaller stature. "You knew I liked her. You _knew_." His right fist balled up again.

"Yeah I did," Eric snapped, his own anger bubbling up to the surface. "And _you_ knew I liked her." He pushed Ryan roughly away from him

"I-" he started.

"You _what_?" Eric bit out. A sharp right jab caught Ryan off guard, sending him reeling back. His left arm snapped out to follow with a left, but Ryan had already regained his ground, and sidestepped.

Eric felt the unseen right-left-right combo as it slammed into his side, knocking the air sharply out of his lungs and he wheezed painfully as he struggled to duck past Ryan. He sensed, rather than saw, Ryan shift to throw his favored turning-back-sidekick so he slid closer to Ryan to avoid the sharp arc of his kick. The blunt flat of Ryan's foot just brushed against his back, and Eric swept out his foot to knock Ryan to the ground.

Ryan dodged left, his right leg snapping out into a sidekick which glanced harmlessly off Eric's side. Eric countered. Right fake. Left roundhouse.

But they had both fought each other on so many occasions that Ryan anticipated the move and though it pierced the air, it failed to land upon its intended target. Ryan rammed close to Eric, rendering his long limbs useless, and threw three quick jabs to the ribs.

Eric grunted as the blows landed, and tried to muscle Ryan away, but he stuck close – refusing to be pushed back. He shoved hard with his shoulder – a not-quite-legal move in most fighting competitions – but effective for the moment. Ryan bounced back quickly and Eric dropped his head, expecting to avoid Ryan's punches.

It was feint.

Eric realized too late as he felt his feet leave the ground and his head approach it.

There was a loud thump as he landed, and another as Ryan pinned him firmly to the ground – his elbow digging painfully into his valley of his throat.

"Stop," Eric rasped, lifting his hands in surrender.

Ryan halted mid-punch, his breathing heavy. "You went out with Dana."

"Yes," Eric acknowledged, sliding down to the ground, his hand wrapped around his midsection. "But," he added before Ryan could start up again, "nothing happened."

"For _four_ hours?"

"We went to play pool, that's it."

"You like her?"

"Yes, I do," Eric admitted, too late.

"I didn't know that."

Eric stayed silent, not sure that he believed that statement. Ryan had known – he had to have known on some level. Hadn't he?

"I really like her," Ryan added.

"I know," Eric sighed.

"But you still went out with her."

"Just as friends."

"Did you. I- I," Ryan fumbled awkwardly.

"You're my friend. Basically my brother. I wouldn't do that to you."

There was a moment of dead silence, and Ryan stared intimidatingly down at him.

"Okay," Ryan accepted, offering him a hand.

A/N: Read and review? Please? :D :D


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: 3 3 to all my readers and reviewers! :D ... i'll try and get the next chapter up soon!

**MONDAY**

"Dana!" Ryan popped into sight as she opened her car door.

"Jesus," Dana breathed, holding a hand to her chest. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry," he held out a single, perfect cream rose. "And I'm sorry about Friday night. Forgive me?"

Taking the rose, she tilted her head and examined him closely. Gently, she fingered the soft petals and inhaled the sweet fragrance as she thought of an appropriate response. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," she said finally.

"You want me to apologize to Tyler," he said dryly.

"Yes," she shut her car door behind her.

"Fine."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah. You're right, I should apologize. I'll do it at lunch," he decided firmly.

"Good," she replied uncertainly, her brows knitted together.

"So, will you eat lunch with us today?" he smiled hopefully. "You know, just to make sure I actually apologize," he tacked on hastily when she hesitated.

"Okay," she chewed tentatively on her lower lip. "Sure."

"Great," he beamed. "Can I walk you to class?"

"It's a free country," she responded, growing more and more unsettled as she strode toward the front doors, Ryan by her side.

"Here, I can carry that for you," he offered, slipping the backpack from her grasp.

"That's okay," she reached to take the bag back.

"I've got it," he said as he slung it over his shoulder.

"I can carry my own bag."

"I know, but what kind of a guy would I look like then?" he smiled lopsidedly. "Let me carry it, for the sake of my reputation."

Laughing, she caved and decided not to push the issue.

"So how was your weekend?"

**

Dana shut her locker, careful to ensure all her books were tucked away, and gave a small shriek when Ryan's face came into sight.

"Hey," he said casually, a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Jesus, where'd you come from?" she glanced up and down the hallway. "And how the hell did I not see you?" she muttered, more to herself than him.

"Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much," he began patronizingly.

"Funny," she swatted at him. "But seriously, how long were you standing there?"

"A minute?" he smirked.

"God, you scared me," she exhaled, "Again."

"Sorry," he said unapologetically. "Will _this_," he held out a chocolate cupcake, "make it up to you?"

She let out a surprised chuckle. "No," she said mischievously, "but it's a start." Dipping her left pinky in the chocolate frosting, she grinned before bringing the finger to her mouth for a taste.

"Good?" he said a little unevenly.

"Amazing," she corrected. "Want a bite?"

"Apology cupcakes are meant to be eaten only by the apologee," he instructed sternly.

"Yes, sir," she said in a deep voice, before taking a bite. "Yum," she giggled.

"You've got a little," Ryan gently wiped at her upper lip, "There."

"Thanks," she flushed.

"So, you ready to go?" he said, a little awkwardly.

"Yup," she smiled. "Lead on cupcake bearer."

**

"You're lying."

Eric's ears perked up as the sound of Dana's breezy laughter followed Ryan's statement. It took most of self control to keep himself from jumping eagerly up to greet her, and he was quite proud of himself for remaining outwardly indifferent to her arrival.

"You _wish_ I was lying," she chuckled again, and his shoulders tensed a bit further.

_God I love her laugh_.

"That's not physically possible," Ryan disputed resolutely. He paused for a second. "Is it?" he asked uncertainly.

"Darling, a little flexibility goes a _long_ way," Dana said slyly as they approached the table. Stunned silence followed her declaration, and they all gaped openly at her. She blinked at the sudden attention, and then flushed as realization of what they thought dawned on her. "In tae-kwon-do, you dirty minded pervs!" she clarified heatedly.

Ryan snorted quietly to himself and slipped an arm around her waist. "And in other things," he add bawdily. Her blush darkened markedly, Ryan was pleased to note.

"Not that you would know," she quipped cheerily.

The group laughed as he glared, and she smiled angelically back at him. "Hi Eric," she said, sitting down beside him, Ryan placing himself to the right of her.

"Hey Dana. How's it going?" Now he could turn towards her.

She let out a small gasp, "Eric, what happened?" Gently, she ran her finger along the bruised edge of his left face, and he fought the urge to lean into her touch. He glanced behind her at Ryan, who had tensed, and she quickly whirled around.

"Ryan, did you do this?" she demanded.

"Relax Dana," Eric said soothingly, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "We were just practicing some new moves and I didn't duck fast enough," he lied smoothly.

"Really?"

"Yes," both boys said together.

She lifted an eyebrow at this, but nodded. "Okay. Just be more careful next time," she chided, "You look like a semi ran into your face."

"Gee, thanks," he rolled his eyes.

"You're welcome," she grinned brightly. "So, what else has been goin' on?"

**

Dana nudged Ryan in the ribs.

"Yeah?"

"There's Tyler," she jerked her chin toward the limping boy. "Go."

He sighed, but stood up. "Hey Tyler," he called out.

Tyler stopped guardedly as Ryan strode over to him.

"Listen man," Ryan said as he jogged up. "I'm sorry about Friday. I said some things I shouldn't have. No hard feelings?" he held out a hand.

Eying the hand, Tyler frowned. "I guess," he said reluctantly, shaking his hand.

"Good man," Ryan grinned. "I'll catch you later." He turned and headed back toward the table, leaving Tyler to stare bewilderedly after him.

"Happy?" he whispered into Dana's ear as he slid into his seat.

"Yes," she returned quietly.

"I'm glad," he smiled genuinely before staring intimidatingly at the rest of the table, which had now been rendered mute for a second time. Conversation quickly sprang up again, each seeking to avoid Ryan's disturbingly fierce gaze, and Dana soon found herself yanked into a discussion about colleges.

**

A/N: Read and review? Please? :D :D


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I know, i know, it's been a while :(....So, I've hit a bit of writer's block/hectic school-ness. This story is definitely NOT on hiatus, but it's not exactly my top priority at the moment either. Um, I'll try and get another chapter up in the next two weeks, but i make no promises. (although *hint hint, nudge nudge* reviews always incite me to sit down and write :D. i'm so very subtle, aren't I ;P) ANYWAY...ENJOY! :D :D

**Two Weeks Later**

Things – life – had finally settled into an almost easy and comfortable routine. Dana glanced around the chattering lunch table that had claimed her as one of their own and sipped placidly on her straw.

Today just about everyone had decided to stay on campus for lunch, which was a quite a rarity, and the atmosphere was feverish with voices bubbling over each other and laughter spilling from and intermingling in a complex symphony of sounds. It was easy to sit back, slip into the background, and just observe and think.

It was hard for her to believe it had been a month since she had left the warm familiarity of Chicago. A whole month without her best friends and her _life_. But things were getting good here.

She and Eric were tentatively rebuilding the easy friendship they had found almost instantly. It would probably never be as comfortable as that first day – however insane that sounded – because she could still feel a part of him pulling and shifting away from her. It was slow going, but at least it was going after she had confided in him. They hadn't talked about the almost kiss and she got the distinct sense that he really didn't want to bring it up. Ever.

He had drawn the boundaries – sharp and distinct and unbreachable – defining their relationship.

Friends. Take it or leave it.

Well, she certainly couldn't leave it.

She peeked over at Eric, who was spiritedly engaged in a debate about something or other. He caught her eye and gave a slight nod and she smiled around the straw.

Her eyes wandered over to the other source of conflict in her life.

Ryan.

The two of them were – she exhaled sharply – god, she didn't even know. They were locked in the no-man's-land between friends and more-than-friends. Some days the scale would tip in one direction and then the next day they'd be back to straddling the middle ground. But, at least they were firmly at friends (or more) and she could stand and like being around him.

Actually, she really liked being around him on most days. There's was something … intoxicating about him and being near him. The world jumped into focus and seemed to hum with life and energy.

It was addictive.

But the same chemistry that drew her to him, that intensity, often caused them to collide in jarring, volatile ways. And he drove her crazy sometimes. A lot of times. Everything was went topsy-turvy with Ryan in the picture, but she didn't want him out of the frame either.

It was calm right now. But would it stay this way? Or was it just the calm before the storm? A permanent détente or just…?

She didn't know, really didn't know. She just wanted it to be calm and stay calm.

"Hey, what're you thinking about all seriously over here?" Ryan asked, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"Nothing really," she shrugged.

"Nothing?" his hold tightened around her into a sidehug. "Nothing doesn't make you do that funny puckered thinking face."

She frowned, "Gee, thanks. That's exactly how every girl wants to be described."

"You know what I mean," he rolled his eyes. "And, I bet I know what you're thinking about."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, what am I thinking about?"

"How we're going to celebrate your entrance into the world of adulthood!"he grinned.

"What?" she twisted in his arm to look up at him.

"Your birthday," he said slowly. "You do remember what that is, right?"

"How'd you know it was my birthday?" she demanded, ignoring the jibe.

"Magic."

"Be serious, will you?"

"Why are you getting so wound up about this?" Ryan asked laughingly.

"I'm not! I just – I just want to know how you found out," she said with a strained half-smile.

"No," he placed his hands around her face and tilted it up, his voice sobering. "This really bothers you. Why?"

"It doesn't!"

"You can tell me," he smiled.

"I'm just not a big fan of birthdays," she demurred.

"That's not it."

"Can we just leave it alone?" she sighed, slipping out of his grasp.

"Sure," he shrugged. "After you tell me why you're so freaked about it."

"Ryan," she sighed.

"Dana," he mimicked.

She scowled.

"You know, most girls try the eyelash-fluttering-batting thing when they're trying to distract a guy," he suggested helpfully.

"How bout I try that pummeling-you-until-you-talk method that the mafia raves about?" she offered innocently back.

"Now how would you know how to do that?" he smirked.

"I'd tell you, but then they'd kill you."

"Aww, see I knew you cared about me," he grinned, wrapping his arm around her.

"You're an idiot," she rolled her eyes as she laughed.

"Genius."

"What?"

"The word you meant to say was 'genius'," he beamed mischievously.

"Nope," she shook her head. "I'm pretty sure I meant idiot."

"You suuuuuuuure?" he teased and reached around her back and pulled a yogurt container into sight.

"No," her eyes widened as he slowly turned the container to face her. The characteristic white letters of "CaliYogurt" emblazoned against a raspberry colored berry. "Ryan! How'd you do that?" she peered suspiciously behind her and around him.

"My little secret," he smirked. "Now," he put a hand on either side of his face, "stop squirming." She stopped obligingly and grinned. "Okay. Now, still think the word isn't 'genius'?"

She laughed, brightly and openly, and Ryan suddenly understood all that sappy sentimentalism he'd read – well, glanced over… he was a guy, after all – in his English lit books. It was the warmest, purest laughter he'd ever heard in the world. Not angels singing, or birds peeping (whatever the analogy was, although he guess he could see those – again, not that he'd ever admit it) but heavenly in its own way.

Beautiful.

Especially with her head tilted back, and her hair flowing freely and the sun hitting her just right. That smile and those dazzling eyes and that sound. He wanted to devote his life to making her laugh like that again.

"I suppose that depends," she chuckled.

"Depends on what?"

"On whether I have to share my yogurt."

A/N: Read and review? Please? :D :D


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